A Fine Line
by ShanghaiLily
Summary: (AU from S2) Logan is trying to convince Veronica that Duncan is a zombie, but she's not buying it. Mainly, because the way Duncan would react and how a Zombie!Duncan would respond in any given situation are so eerily similar that it's impossible for Logan to prove his theory. WARNING: total crack fic ahead * enter at your own risk.


**A/N: This mini fic came from a crazy Tumblr musing that nevertothethird had about an iZombie/Veronica Mars crossover. Of course, the first thought that popped into my head when she said Veronica Mars and Zombies was 'How would they be able to tell if Duncan was a zombie or not?'. And thus, this crack!fic was born!**

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**Needless to say, it's dedicated with love to my girl S. (aka. nevertothethird)**

**PS - this fic is so unbeta'd it hurts, so please forgive the multitude of errors you are sure to find.**

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The stench started out faint, like a waft of stale air every time Duncan would pass through the living room. Over the last week, it had grown stronger, ripening like a blooming rind of cheese left out in the August sun. The putrid stench of rotting flesh heralded every appearance, clinging to couch cushions, glassware, walls, and anything else his body made contact with.

Of course, Veronica never noticed. For a woman whose side job it was to notice the smallest of details, she was sometimes an expert at missing the major ones.

"You getting a beer, man?" Logan asked, as Duncan rose stiffly from the couch. "Can you grab me one, bro?"

Without turning his head, Duncan grunted, and started off toward the kitchen area of the hotel suite, dragging his left foot behind him with a prominent limp.

Veronica, currently humming along with the song 'Everyone Has AIDS' from 'Team America: World Police', stuffed a way-too-large handful of popcorn into her mouth and nearly choked on it.

Duncan stood in front of the open fridge and stared into it blankly, like he was trying to uncover the mysteries of the universe.

"How are those beers coming along, dude?"

There was no response. Unless heavy breathing counted as a mode of communication.

"Duncan's looking a bit worse for wear, no?" Logan asked Veronica, hoping to broach the topic gently.

Veronica finished swallowing with a rough-looking gulp and reached for her can of S'kist with an air of annoyance. "We're seriously still doing this?"

Logan stared at her with the same thirst she sought to quench, as she downed half of the can in one sip.

"If you're talking about us watching overplayed, millennial comedies?" He waved at the television in an exaggerated gesture. "Apparently."

"I was more talking about that thing where you 'subtly' pick apart Duncan in a bid to get me to recognize what a huge mistake I made getting back together with him."

"Somebody is a Hector Projector," Logan said in a teasing tone, and followed it up with a brand of smirk he knew she'd like to punch. At this point, he would take any reaction he could get from her.

"You told me he smelled like…" She glanced furtively over her shoulder at her boyfriend, who was still staring vacantly into the fridge, and lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "Dead bodies!"

"You disagree?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Logan. Sometimes you're such a drama queen. He just came back from the gym, okay?"

Logan shot her an incredulous look. "He told you that?"

"No. He didn't have to!" she said, a little too emphatically. "He's wearing his gym clothes, in case you failed to notice."

Logan bridged the distance between them, gagging audibly as he accidentally got too close to the knitted afghan Duncan had been using as a shawl to stave off the cold. "He's been wearing his gym clothes for four days, Veronica."

Her hand scrubbed over her face in exasperation. "He likes to work out. You, of all people, should be able to appreciate that."

"Do you? Appreciate it?"

"What?"

"Have you seen him…" Logan checked on Duncan's status with the beers, which had barely progressed, "…naked?"

"Of course I've seen him naked." She smiled at him, cruelly. "Lots of times."

Logan huffed out a disgusted breath at her response. "I meant lately."

"Are you seriously asking me if I've had sex with my boyfriend in the last week?" Her face scrunched up as she internally debated her reply. "I picked up a few cases from my dad, been pulling a lot of late nights. We've both been tired."

Logan arched an eyebrow at her.

"And I've had my period, okay?" she confessed reluctantly, twisting her hands in her lap like she did when she was in middle school.

"Never used to stop you from fooling around when you dated me," he said, in sotto voce.

"Maybe he's not as dirty as you are?"

"Maybe he's not as dirty as you are?"

Veronica's head dropped back and she mumbled something to herself as she gazed at the ceiling. "I already missed the rest of the AIDS song for this, so I hope you plan on getting to the point soon."

"If only there were a way to rewind back to that part and rewatch it."

"Why do you want to know if I've seen Duncan naked? Are you suggesting he looks different under his clothes? Should I be looking for gills or a tail?"

"I'd check for a pulse first."

He was blatantly stalling. Because seriously, there was no good way of phrasing this kind of accusation.

How does one gracefully accuse an ex-girlfriend's current boyfriend of being a flesh-eating zombie without looking like a jealous idiot?

If Veronica wasn't in a forgiving mood, he would probably go down in flames with the claim, but it was a chance he had to take. He wouldn't let her put herself in danger. She may not be able to admit to herself what they still meant to each other, but he had no problem owning up to his soul-crushing love for her.

A frustrated, wet gurgling echoed across the room. Logan wondered if zombies could actually still get frustrated or if he was just reading into it.

"They're right there, on the top shelf. You put them there yourself, man!" Logan shouted over his shoulder to his best friend.

A low moan emanated from behind the fridge door in response.

Logan leaned in further, his lips brushing the shell of Veronica's ear. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn he felt her shudder. "I think Duncan might be…he doesn't seem off to you? At all?"

The line of her body tensed immeasurably. "Just spit it out."

"I think Duncan is a zombie."

Veronica pulled back and stared at Logan like they had just met. "You haven't been hanging out with Gia Goodman lately, have you?"

"What? God, of course not. I'm being serious."

"How is accusing Duncan of being a zombie being serious, exactly?"

"He smells like death, his skin has been looking kind of…grey lately, and he's developed a habit of nonverbal communication."

"He's never been a Chatty Cathy, Logan. Especially next to you."

"He has these dead eyes." He placed a hand on her knee to punctuate his thought, and marveled at the lack of usual flinch at his touch. "Haven't you noticed how unemotional he's been?"

Veronica tucked her hair behind her ear and flushed pink. "Just because he isn't pulling a Camille act, like you do when you're not feeling well, doesn't mean he's a zombie, for fuck's sake."

"Tell me this is normal behavior." Logan looked pointedly into her eyes, jaw clenched tightly, and then jutted his chin toward where Duncan was still standing mesmerized by the beverage rack.

Her resolve began to weaken. "He's on medication. For his…you know."

"He was on medication after Lilly, too, and he never looked this whacked out."

Her brow furrowed with thought, which she then shook from her head. "This is insane."

"I can prove it."

Her head tilted to the side. "How?"

"What would Duncan do if I kissed you right now in front of him? Right here on the couch?"

Veronica shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I - I don't know. I guess at the very least he'd ask you what you were doing?"

Logan's nose wrinkled. "That's it?"

"Not everybody lives their lives like they're Apollo Creed trying to rile up the home crowd," she sniffed, "but, if you're asking if he'd be pissed, the answer is yes."

"Let's test that theory."

Before Veronica could protest, Logan lunged forward, slotting his knee between her thighs as he slid his hand into the back of her hair and pulled her toward him in one swift move.

"Logan!" Veronica gasped in surprise, as his lips overtook her words.

At first, she resisted. He knew she would. How else could she justify letting it happen? Liking it, even?

But as soon as he pushed past her thin membrane of guilt, she melted into his embrace with a breathy sigh. "Logan…"

"Veronica," he murmured against her mouth, before slipping his tongue into her mouth with a velvety slide. "Oh God. Veronica."

Before he realized what she was doing, she had clambered halfway onto his lap, straddling him. Logan wrapped his free hand around her tiny waist and hauled her the rest of the way.

Both of her arms circled his neck and tightened almost painfully, like she was drowning and he was performing an airlift rescue at sea.

Their frenzied kissing deepened, spiraling out of control. They were no better than drunks tumbling off of the wagon in tandem, tossing that shitty glass of holiday egg nog into the bushes before finally reaching for the good stuff.

The only thing that pulled them from their coupling was the sound of a beer bottle being plunked noisily on the coffee table.

Veronica nearly knocked herself onto the floor as she leapt off of Logan, back onto the safety of the couch. "Duncan!"

Duncan nodded to acknowledge her, then calmly lifted his beer to his lips and tipped his head back for a swig.

A trickle of fizzy black fluid oozed out of a small hole in his neck where his thyroid should have been but wasn't anymore.

A sharp intake of breath filled her lungs, before she released it with a nervous chuckle. "He's probably just drunk, Logan. You know how laconic he gets when he's been drinking."

Logan slowly rotated his head toward Veronica and nodded. "I think we might need to conduct some more research."


End file.
